


Entrapped

by Quillbreaker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark, Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:38:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillbreaker/pseuds/Quillbreaker
Summary: Madness is not a state of mind. Madness is a place. What happens when Harry stumbles into it and gets trapped there? A Harry Potter version of Alice in Wonderland but a thousand shades darker.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vladimir_Mithrander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vladimir_Mithrander/gifts), [Minjain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minjain/gifts), [thoughtfullycoolbasement](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtfullycoolbasement/gifts), [FandomstuckGeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomstuckGeek/gifts), [Lanievo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanievo/gifts), [StarOfFeanor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarOfFeanor/gifts), [Topa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topa/gifts).



The boy awoke, his emerald eyes slowly coming to focus on the naked bulb above and the screams reverberating against the walls. He was dimly aware of his body being rigid and straight. There was absolutely no movement possible. Pulling his head upward he could see thick straps over his arms and legs. Saliva pooled in the back of his throat and he swallowed, panicked. More saliva came and over and over he drank it down so as not to panic. He twisted his limbs, turning them, feeling the friction of the fabric against his skin.

It took his brain a while to catch up with where he was and what was happening. The panic subsided and he grew still in the restraints. He tried to focus on why he was in them. A white misty fog clouded his brain and he tried to grasp the memories through it. Wandering blindly and attempting to grab something, anything. It was too dense…the fog was too dense and he couldn’t… he couldn’t focus…couldn’t see through it no matter how hard he tried.

He gave up and twisted his head in the restraints, taking in his surroundings. The familiar view and sounds gave him some semblance of calm. But calm was probably the wrong word. There was no calm in this place. They called Hogwarts the "asylum" as if it were a place of refuge, it was anything but. It was a place for those no one knew what to do with, the ones that had been forgotten by the wider world.  He squeezed his eyes shut. There was no point in struggling. The restraints would only come off if Doctor Albus willed it.  

In here he had no rights. He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t choose when to rise or the time at which he may go to bed. He couldn’t refuse the poisons that made his mind slow to the point of stopping at every emotion and thought. Doctor Albus decided every little thing.

There was no rest from the screams of others, the ones driven crazier by the hours of isolation. They weren't patients but inmates, barely human at all. He drew in a deep breath. He wasn’t like them. He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t insane. And he didn’t belong here. One of the nurses, dressed in their usual, spotless white uniforms walked past his bed. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it instantly.

His gaze locked on to the bulb again and he focused on his memories again. The fog was a bit less dense. The drugs must be wearing off. He instantly reached for his memories. The first one being of his first day here. He couldn’t remember what had happened before that. Doctor Albus had done that to him. But he remembered how he had been brought in. His own screams and cries. His pleas that he wasn’t insane. But no one had heard. They had taken his dignity along with his clothes, they had talked to him as if he were a challenged five-year-old. Doctor Albus still talked to him like that. He knew he was always being watched, all his negative emotions were recorded and punished, his dull and passive behaviours were praised and rewarded.

The thought sliced through the fog. That was why he was restrained. He hadn’t answered Doctor Albus’ questions. He had acted up and reiterated the point that he wasn’t insane. Saying that he was insane was the worst kind of treason in this place.   

He had learned on his second day here that in that place, there wasn't one word he could say that wouldn't be taken as insane. Every little thing about him was over scrutinized, every emotion taken as a sign of imbalance. The pills came, as did the over cooked food…bland and over salted. In that place of locked doors and barred windows time slowed…the clock ticking out but moments were frozen. Every day was the same.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by a calm, collected voice. He looked away from the bulb he had been focusing on and turned his attention to the tall, thin man with silver hair and beard standing at his bedside. He gazed up into those brilliant, soul-piercing blue eyes that were twinkling with kindness. Sometimes he wanted to believe that the kindness really was genuine. The leather straps restraining him made him think otherwise,

“My dear boy, have you had enough time to contemplate?”

He knew he had to play along if he ever wanted to get out of these restraints. He nodded silently. Doctor Albus smiled benignly,

“Excellent. You are making progress. Another day shall do wonders for you.”

His horror must have become apparent on his face because the man frowned concernedly and patted him on the cheek,

“This is for your own good, my boy.”

He wanted to protest. He wanted to yell and scream that this wasn’t for his good. He desperately wanted to get out of this place before Doctor Albus took anymore of his memories. Before he forgot his own name. What was his name again? A wave of panic drowned out everything other thought. He struggled desperately to find the answer in his drug addled mind. No…No…NO!!! He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember. He writhed against the restraints. Doctor Albus rested his hand on his forehead,

“Relax. All shall be well. You shall get better.”

 He grew still as Doctor Albus traced the scar on his forehead with his finger. How had he gotten that? He had remembered how once. His name…that’s what he needed to remember. What was his name? Doctor Albus brushed his hair away from his forehead and spoke gently,

“What is the first step to recovery, Harry?”

Harry…that was his name. He held onto it tight and repeated it over and over inside his head so that he wouldn’t forget it again. But he would. He knew it. As soon as he would be dosed again, he would. The first step to recovery…the answer rolled off his tongue without thought,

“Acceptance.”

Doctor Albus seemed very pleased with the answer and his smile widened. Harry could only hope that he would let him out of these restraints soon,

“Have you accepted your illness, Harry?”

NO! He hadn’t because there was no illness to accept in the first place. He wasn’t insane. But he had to say something to placate Doctor Albus otherwise he would be stuck in these restraints forever,

“Yes, Doctor. I am not well.”

Doctor Albus patted him on the head gently and spoke,

“Indeed, Harry. You are not but I shall make you all better. Do you trust me?”

No again. He didn’t trust anyone in this place,

“Yes, Doctor. I trust you.”

Doctor Albus stepped back from his bed,

“Madam Pomfrey, I believe it is time for Harry’s injection.”

He turned to him, smiled benignly and spoke,

“If you take your injection like a good boy, I shall let you out of these restraints. They must be awfully uncomfortable but they are for your own good. They are there to make you all better.”

Harry could only nod but he internally screamed. He didn’t want that fog again. He closed his eyes and lectured himself

_Calm down…calm down. It’s just an injection. Doctor Albus is going to let you out tomorrow if you take it silently. Then you can escape. DO not mess this up. Don’t mess it up and calm down._

Harry felt the sleeve of his shirt being rolled up past his elbow and the needle prick his skin. He willed himself to remain still all through the process. When the needle was pulled away. He opened his eyes and saw Doctor Albus smiling radiantly,

“Very good, Harry. You are on your way to recovery.”

Harry watched him walk away and closed his eyes. He had three minutes before he blacked out. In those three minutes, he attempted to hold onto everything he remembered. But most of all he held onto his name. He couldn’t forget his name again. That would mean that he was forgetting himself. He could feel it happening. The darkness consuming his thoughts, his memories, everything inside his head like a tidal wave. His name…he had to hold on to that. It was important... Very important. Harry…Harry…His name was Harry.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry walked through a long corridor silently. Everything was white. The walls, the ceiling, the floor. He felt the gaze of several nurses following him and he tried to act as inconspicuous as possible. He had been drugged six hours ago and the restraints had been removed seven hours ago. One false move would land him back in bed or worse. The hazy fog still swirled inside his head, preventing him from reaching out to his memories but he could think much clearer than he had been able to a few days ago. He must be growing immune to the drug. Harry kept his head lowered and took in every detail of his surroundings. The only way out that he had discovered so far was the main door and an exit through the kitchen. But Doctor Albus had taken him off kitchen duty and every other duty when one of the nurses had caught him peering at it curiously. There had to be another exit.

 He looked around at the ignorantly blissful inmates. They might be at home here but he wasn’t. Harry’s head swam for a while and he took the support of the wall to keep himself upright. He had been stripped away of his energy during the past few days he had spent in restraints. A few minutes on his feet left him weak and dizzy. Harry blinked away the giddiness and started walking again. He was just making way down to the ground floor when a nurse stopped him on the stairs,

“It’s time for your session with Doctor Albus. He is expecting you in his office.”

Harry cursed internally but allowed the nurse to escort him.

_Stay calm…stay focused. You need to make your lies believable. You need Doctor Albus to trust you again._

Harry was escorted into a room devoid of any furniture except for an arm chair, a small table and a leather recliner. He had been here enough times to know where his place was and he made his way to the recliner instinctively. Doctor Albus smiled at him and signalled him to sit down. Harry obeyed even though his heart was hammering in his chest and every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run. The nurse drew closer to him and restrained his arms silently. Harry resisted the urge to tug at them and tried to relax as best as possible. Doctor Albus thanked the nurse. When the nurse had departed and the door had been closed, Doctor Albus turned to him,

“My dear boy, you seem well today.”

Harry nodded,

“Yes, Doctor. I feel well.”

Doctor Albus picked up a clipboard and spoke,

“Have you had any more dreams?”

Harry shook his head. He had but he wasn’t about to mention them,

“No, Doctor.”

Doctor Albus’ blue eyes twinkled like he had caught the lie but Harry was glad that he didn’t pursue the matter further,

“Do you remember what we discussed the last time you were here, my boy?”

Harry couldn’t remember and although that was a bad thing for him, he figured it would delight Doctor Albus,

“No, Doctor.”

Doctor Albus smiled brightly,

“Do you remember what happened after?”

Harry remembered all too clearly. He had shouted out that he wasn’t insane and attempted to run. That had been stupid. That was why he had been restrained to the recliner this time,

“I am sorry, Doctor.”

Doctor Albus rose to his feet and patted him on the cheek,

“There is no need to apologize. You are ill, Harry, and you cannot be held accountable for the mistakes you make due to it. Everything shall be fine. You shall be all better in no time.”

Harry smiled as best as he could,

“Yes, Doctor.”

Doctor Albus picked up a small bottle and a spoon from the side table. He filled the spoon with the liquid from the bottle and spoke softly,

“Open your mouth, Harry.”

Harry didn’t want to. A wave of cold fear and panic shot down his spine. Who knew what that was or what it would do to him. He forced himself to open his mouth and drank the foul-tasting liquid. Doctor Albus smiled pleasantly and retook his seat while he struggled to get the bitter taste off his tongue. A few minutes passed in silence and Harry knew that Doctor Albus was waiting for whatever he had just fed him to take effect and Harry doing his damndest not to let it affect him. But it was inevitable. His eyelids felt too heavy and they drooped, sinking his world into darkness. His head fell back against the recliner and his body relaxed. He wasn’t unconscious though just extremely sleepy. Harry could feel the leather restraints digging into his wrists and he could hear Doctor Albus’ distant voice,

“How do you feel, Harry?”

Harry spoke thoughtlessly,

“Sleepy.”

Harry wanted nothing more than to fall asleep but something was stopping him,

“I shall let you sleep you in a moment, Harry. First you must answer my questions. But you must answer them honestly or else I shall not allow you to sleep.”

Harry couldn’t even nod. His body felt too heavy. His brain was working way too slow,

“Do you remember your parents?”

A few pictures flashed in front of his eyes in quick succession but Harry’s mind was way too slow to pick them up. This was important but his brain didn’t want to be bothered by it now,

“No.”

Doctor Albus asked another question,

“Do you remember that night?”

Again, Harry saw an array of images but they passed as quickly as they had come,

“No.”

Harry needed to sleep. He just wanted to sleep. That was the only think his mind wanted. It wasn’t interested in the questions. The only reason Harry spoke was so that he could just sleep,

“Do you know why you were brought here?”

Harry’s lips moved on their own,

“No.”

Exhaustion and fatigue were wrecking his body and his mind,

“Sleep.”

Harry’s brain instantly complied, shutting down and sending him into that blissful, black void.

Doctor Albus watched as Harry’s breathing turned deep and even. A knock on the door forced him to look up,

“Come in.”

A nurse entered and spoke,

“Doctor, he’s here.”

Doctor Albus smiled and regarded Harry’s sleeping form again,

“Send him here.”

The nurse vanished from the room and Doctor Albus rose to his feet. He brushed away Harry’s raven black hair from his forehead, bringing the scar into view and smiled widely.


	3. Chapter 3

A tall, slender man dressed in a black immaculate suit stepped into a room. His gaze wandered lazily around the room, coming to rest on Harry’s restrained, asleep form,

“Tom, it has been a long time.”

Tom looked away from Harry and his lips curved into a smile, accentuating his high cheek bones and his sharp features,

“Albus, how are you?”

Doctor Albus smiled brightly,

“I am doing fairly good, Tom. What brings you to my humble abode?”

Tom’s gaze drifted back to Harry,

“Is he a new patient?”

Doctor Albus nodded imperceptibly,

“Yes, he is.”

Tom raised his hand,

“May I?”

Doctor Albus nodded and stepped away,

“By all means.”

Tom traced a finger over Harry’s cheek and murmured slowly,

“How old is he?”

Doctor Albus hesitated and Tom looked away from Harry and smiled at him,

“Oh, Albus. You have never bothered with doctor patient confidentiality before. I know all about your side business.”

Doctor Albus smiled tightly and spoke,

“Yes, I have not but he is a special case.”

Tom continued to trace Harry’s cheek with his finger and spoke,

“Yes, he is. I recognize him, Albus. Do not think that I am that ignorant.”

He moved his hand away from his cheek and began to thread his fingers through his hair. He continued talking,

“He is supposed to be dead. His obituary along with his parents was all over the newspapers two months ago.”

Doctor Albus nodded silently,

“Yes, his parents’ death was quite tragic and it was only by a miracle that Harry survived.”

Tom chuckled,

“Explain to me what he is doing in your Asylum and why the news of his death has not been corrected? Do you intend to sell him off Albus?”

Doctor Albus moved his fingers through his sliver beard and smiled,

“Surely you are not here to discuss my business, Tom. Let us move to my office.”

Tom laughed but his eyes remained fixated on Harry. He pulled his hand away and followed Doctor Albus to his office. Once they were both seated around the desk, Tom spoke,

“I actually did come here to discuss your business. I am in desperate need of one of your boys.”

Doctor Albus opened a desk drawer. He pulled out a leather-bound book and slid it over to Tom,

“Take your pick, Tom.”

Tom rested his hand on the book and smiled sharply,

“Is he in the book?”

Doctor Albus smiled coldly and shook his head,

“He is not for sale. He remembers too much and I have not broken him down completely yet. It shall take some time. Even then, I shall not be selling him here where people know him.”

Tom pushed away the book,

“Name his price.”

Doctor Albus’ smile turned sad,

“Tom, I wish I could but I have already explained to you that he is not for sale yet.”

Tom rose to his feet,

“I want him, Albus, and I want him now. I might have settled for anyone if I had not seen him but now that I have, I shall not settle for anything less. And you must know that I get everything I want by hook or by crook. So, if you do not sell him to me, I shall expose your little side business and show the world what you really do in this Asylum.”

Doctor Albus rose to his feet as well,

“If you go along with that plan, I shall have no choice but to slit his wrists. The inmates here tend to be a bit suicidal. You shall not get him either.”

Tom gaped at him and then smirked maliciously,

“Very well, Albus. I believe this is the moment we part ways.”

He stepped out of the office and stopped by Harry,

“I will have you, Harry.”

And then he was gone.

Harry woke up with a raging headache and buried his face in his pillow. At least he wasn’t restrained. He had gotten through a session with Doctor Albus successfully. He deserved a medal for that. Harry tried to remember what Doctor Albus had talked to him about but his brain refused to cooperate and his headache spiked drastically. Harry tossed his head from side to side on the pillow, trying to shake off the unendurable pain and not to scream. It took a while but when Harry’s headache subsided a bit, he sat up straight and looked around. The ward was dark and quite so that meant that everyone was asleep. He had never really woken up at this hour before. His gaze focused on the only door that led out of the ward and saw one of the orderlies seated there on a chair and fast asleep if his snores were anything to go by. He swung his legs off the bed. Could he really do it? Was this really the opportunity he had been waiting for?

He had never been more content with walking barefoot before. Slowly and carefully he padded across the cold tiled floor towards the door. The orderly had placed his chair right in the center of the doorway and the only way across him was either over the chair or under it. Harry figured going under was the more plausible option and dropped down to the floor on his belly. Crawling carefully between the orderly’s feet when a shiny set of keys hanging from the orderly’s belt made him stop. They could come in handy later. Slowly and very carefully, he clipped them off the belt and then crawled under the chair and through the doorway. Once in the corridor, he slotted himself behind a pillar and glanced around the corridor. There would more orderlies on guard duty and Harry definitely didn’t want to run into any of them. The warm glow of a lantern suddenly lit up the dark corridor and footsteps accompanied it. It began to draw closer and Harry felt his heart beating out of his chest with dread. He plastered himself to the wall and pushed himself behind the pillar as much as he physically could.

The orderly passed him and when the corridor was dark again, Harry silently sighed out in relief and made his through it towards the stairs that led to the kitchen. He had considered escaping through the main door but termed it as impossible and dismissed the thought altogether. The kitchen was his safest bet at the moment. Harry reached the banister and looked down the stairs to find two orderlies strolling through the hallway at the bottom of the staircase. He instantly bent down and tried to come up with a plan. He couldn’t understand how he was going to get past them unless he used a distraction. But any distraction would put the security in high alert and all the exits would be shut down immediately. He would get caught in no time. No, he had come too far to give up now. He needed to get out of this place so he could get his head back together. Harry sat there for a minute and noticed there strolling patterns and analysed their blind spots. It was doable.  All he needed was to time it perfectly.

When both guards had their backs turned towards each other, Harry quickly made his way down the stairs and crawled straight into the small space under a table. He held his arms and legs as close to his body as he possible could and waited for them to complete their cycle. Once again when they both had their backs turned. Harry crawled from underneath the table to the doorway that led to the kitchens. Once inside Harry ducked under one of the counters and attempted to gather his breath. When his heartbeat had slowed down to a normal pace, he crawled through the kitchen as quietly as possible. When he reached the back exit, he realized that it was locked. But that wasn’t a problem. He tried every key in the set that he had gotten from the orderly.

He had almost given up when the lock clicked indicating that the door was open. Harry couldn’t contain his joy. He slipped open the door, just enough for him to slip through. And when Harry was safely out in the dark dirty alleyway, he ran like he had never run before, even his bare feet didn’t hinder him.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry's feet ached, in fact his entire body was aching like hell along with his head. He had no idea where he was but he was certain that he had ran a long way and left the asylum far behind. He continued walking in the shadows of the empty, silent cobbled street lit only by the oil lamps. The cold night air made him shiver and tremble as it bit into his skin. The Asylum uniform he was dressed in offered him no protection…in fact if a policeman were to see him, he would most certainly recognize it and drop him off at the Asylum again. He wasn't going to allow that to happen. He had been lucky enough to escape once. Fate would not favour him twice.

An orange glow radiating from an alley a few steps ahead of him caught his eye and the sound of singing caught his attention. He peered from the corner and saw the back of a shabby looking man stooped over a small fire. He noticed a bottle in the man's left hand and wondered. The warmth was tantalizing him. He was tempted to step into the alley and just warm his numb feet and hands in front of the fire. But what if the man recognized his uniform and dragged him back to the Asylum. Was the warmth worth the risk? On the other hand, the man sounded too drunk. His voice was slurred as he hummed some tune. Harry took the chance and stepped into the alley. His feet made no sound as he walked towards the man and when he was standing right behind him, he spoke,

"Hello."

The man jumped and turned. He cradled the bottle close to his chest as he took in the sight of Harry and Harry took in the sight of him. The man was dressed in rags and was emanating a rancid smell that was a mixture of alcohol and sweat. Harry took a step back and tried not to breathe it in. The lowed half of his face was hidden by a long, mangy beard and the upper half was framed by shoulder length, matted, curly hair. His face was covered with grime and dirt. The only visible part of his face was his bloodshot, grey eyes, that were regarding him suspiciously. Harry didn't miss the way the man clutched his bottle close to his chest in a possessive hold…as if Harry was there to snatch it away from him,

"I don't want your bottle, Sir."

The man straightened up and Harry took another step backwards. He spoke in a gruff voice,

"What do you want then?"

Harry eyed the fire behind him and asked as politely as possible,

"Can I sit by the fire?"

The man's grey eyes lit up and he grinned…maybe…Harry wasn't sure because of the beard,

"Cold, are you?"

Harry nodded and the man opened his arms in a welcoming gesture,

"By all means, be my guest."

Harry dragged a broken-down crate from a pile of rubbish and settled down on it, close to the fire. The warmth felt heavenly against his freezing body and he warmed his hands and feet,

"Thank you."

The man paid him no attention as he took another swig from the bottle and wiped his mouth clean on the dirty sleeve of the shabby coat he was wearing. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Harry's eyes had closed at some point and he was now kneeling on the ground, close to the fire, with his arms folded on the crate and his aching head rested atop them. The man's drunken humming was oddly soothing and Harry felt like he was drifting off. He had drifted off because when the man cackled madly, Harry started and felt his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. He sat up straight and looked at the man who was clutching his stomach and laughing raucously. The empty bottle lay on the ground beside him. The man stopped laughing for a second, wiped his eyes, caught his breath and began laughing again. He spoke in between laughs,

"You're not…you're not wearing any shoes…"

Harry pursed his lips. He couldn't understand how that was funny. Maybe it was funny because he was drunk but Harry failed to see the humour in it. The man continued laughing for the next few minutes and then stopped abruptly. His expression grew sombre and he asked,

"Why aren't you wearing any shoes?"

Harry stared down at his bare feet and decided to give the man something to laugh about,

"I escaped from an Asylum."

Harry waited for the man to start laughing again but when he looked up, the man was staring at him intently. The fire that illuminated his grey eyes made him look serious and Harry had to wonder if the man really was drunk. He looked sober enough now and now that Harry had told him his secret, he was afraid…no afraid was an understatement…he was bloody terrified. The man rose to his feet and Harry jumped up as well. The man took a few staggering steps towards him and Harry backed away. Suddenly, the man stumbled and collapsed on his knees. Harry took that as his cue to run. He was about to but the man's body started heaving with sobs. Harry didn't know what made him do it but he bent down beside him and despite the pungent odour wafting off him, Harry helped him up and sat him down on the crate,

"Are you alright?"

The man continued to sob and Harry couldn't understand why,

"Why are you crying?"

The man stopped for a moment and hiccupped,

"You're scared of me."

Harry frowned,

"No…Not really."

The man rubbed his nose with his sleeve and spoke,

"You are. You were getting ready to run."

Harry shook his head,

"I wasn't scared of you…I was scared that you would take me back to the Asylum…"

The man shook his head and burst out into laughter again. Harry was glad he wasn't sobbing anymore. The laughter was much more bearable. Harry took a few steps back and settled on the ground opposite him close to the fire. Harry hugged his knees to the chest and soaked in as much of the warmth as he possibly could. His head was still throbbing and he wished he could just sleep for a while so that he could get rid of it and start remembering who he was and his past.

They spent an hour or two in silence but this time, Harry didn't doze off…instead the man lay curled up near the fire and slept like a baby. He looked up at the sky…the inky darkness was changing into a shade of dark purple. Dawn was approaching fast and the fire was nearly gone. Harry looked at the snoring form in front of him and rose to his feet. Where was he going to go? He must have had a home but he couldn't remember anything about it. His head ached worse than before and he clutched it. Stop thinking…He urged himself to stop thinking.

He was just lost in these thoughts when the man sat up straight, stretched and grinned,

"Morning, kiddo."

He yawned and stood up straight,

"I thought I had dreamed you up."

Harry didn't know what to say so he remained silent. The man stepped closer to him and Harry took a few steps back. The man frowned,

"Still scared of me? I'm not going to hurt you, kiddo…or take you back to the asylum."

Harry forced himself to remain still as the man approached him,

"Why were you being kept at the Asylum?"

Dumbledore's words echoed inside his head and his grip tightened on his hair,

"Because I'm not well."

Harry paused and then asked,

"Do I look mad?"

The man gave him a once over and then laughed softly…there was nothing derisive about it…in fact it seemed to warm Harry up a bit. Finally, the man spoke,

"You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret."

He leaned closer and Harry caught a whiff of that horrible smell again. Somehow it didn't bother him now. The man bent over his ear and spoke in a low conspiratorial whisper,

"All the best people are."


	5. Chapter 5

The man eyed Harry closely and then spoke while moving his fingers through his mangy beard,

“You seem familiar. It’s like I’ve seen you before.”

Harry wondered if the man was really sober now or still a bit drunk. The man stepped away from him and shrugged out of his ragged coat and held it out to him,

“Wear this. It’ll hide that terrible uniform.”

The coat was emanating a rank stench but he pulled it on nonetheless. The man adjusted the collar and grinned behind the beard,

“So, where will you go?”

Harry thought hard about that. He didn’t know. He didn’t know where he was supposed to go. He didn’t have anywhere to go. The only thing he remembered about himself was his name…Harry…That was all he remembered and it wasn’t much at all. The man snapped his fingers and spoke,

“You could come with me.”

Harry met his grey gaze, trying to understand if he should trust this man. The man’s grin only grew brighter and his yellow teeth were on full display now,

“You say you escaped from the Asylum, right?”

Harry nodded his head silently,

“Well, I have to give it to you. You’re smart for someone presumably mad.”

The man offered his hand,

“Sirius Black, at your service.”

Harry thought a moment before taking it,

“Harry.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow,

“Just Harry? No last name?”

Harry tried to remember and a cry escaped his lips as sharp pain lanced through his head. Sirius was holding him in the blink of an eye,

“What happened, kiddo?”

Harry opened his eyes and rasped out,

“I can’t remember.”

Sirius rubbed soothing circles on his back,

“It’s alright. You’ll remember.”

When the pain had receded, Sirius released him and Harry stood up straight,

“What do you remember about yourself, Harry?”

Harry was still holding his head and spoke,

“Just my name.”

Sirius frowned,

“What about your age?”

He should know that. Harry realized that he should at least know his own age. He looked down at himself and then up at Sirius,

“How old do I look?”

Sirius gave him a once over and then spoke,

“Somewhere between seventeen to nineteen.”

Harry tried not to think about that because he was afraid he might have another headache. Sirius patted him on the shoulder,

“So, will you come with me, Kiddo? You seem like you can’t look after yourself and I don’t think my conscience can bear finding your corpse in some alley.”

Harry nodded his head. He had no choice. Sirius looked down at his bare feet pointedly and began toeing off his shoes. Harry shook his hand,

“I’m fine.”

Sirius nudged the shoes towards him with his feet,

“Go on. Wear them. I have my socks on.”

Harry hesitated for a moment before fitting his feet in the shoes. They were two or three sizes bigger but Harry managed to keep his feet firmly planted in them,

“So, ready to go?”

Harry looked at Sirius, hoping and wishing that he wasn’t falling into a deeper trap and nodded. Sirius picked up the empty liquor bottle from the floor and began making his way out of the alley. The sun was just beginning to rise and Sirius walked through the still quite and vacant streets purposefully. Harry followed him through several narrow alleys and streets. The sun was fully up by the time they reached a dilapidated building. Sirius made his way inside but Harry stopped at the steps and stared at it in apprehension. Sirius turned around and took his hand,

“Come on. You followed me this far. Just trust me a little more.”

Sirius began leading him inside the building which was dark and smelled mouldy. Harry couldn’t make out anything in the dark corridor but he heard movements and voices. The building was definitely occupied. The windows were all boarded up and Harry wondered how the people made it without sunlight. Sirius came to a halt and began struggling with a door. Harry jumped when he growled,

“Bloody door!”

He kicked it hard and the door finally gave in and opened with an ominous creak. He led Harry in. If he painted the walls black the room couldn't be any darker. The once frilly net curtains at the boarded window were thick with over a decade of grime. The light that struggled through the gaps in the boards failed to reflect from the once beige carpet that was more like a forest floor in both colour and texture. The walls could be any shade at all, he couldn’t tell. Harry noticed that several empty liquor bottles littered the floor. The only furniture in the room was a stained mattress that was set on the floor in the center of the room and a cupboard that had one door hanging on its hinges. Sirius waved around with his arms,

“Mi case es su casa.”

Harry eyed the room warily. He knew he should be feeling grateful for the fact that he at least had a roof over his head but he didn’t. He just wished he could remember who he was and where his home was so that he could go back to his life. Sirius sank down on the mattress and signalled for Harry to come and lie down as well. Harry knew he wouldn’t be comfortable sharing a bed with another man but desperate times called for desperate measures. He pulled off the shoes and the coat and looked for a place to put them. He wasn’t comfortable with just dropping them on the carpet. Sirius signalled towards the cupboard lazily and spoke,

“There is a blanket in there if you want it.”

Harry placed the shoes next to the cupboard and put the coat inside. The cupboard was stuffed with all manners of things. There was a pile of newspapers, a mound of unfolded clothes that all looked absolutely filthy and two more pairs of muddy shoes. He found the ratty blanket at the top most shelf. He had just turned back to thank Sirius when he realized that the man was already asleep. Harry laid down on the mattress slowly and wrapped the blanket around himself. At first, he didn’t feel comfortable about letting his guard down but the discomfort vanished gradually and soon enough Harry drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The forest was the orchestra of his mind, playing one enchanting symphony after another. The leaves danced to an unheard beat, whispering their songs to the wind. Sheltered by the mighty trees, was every kind of life, from the humble beetle to enchanting birds of every colour. Harry held his hands up to feel the cascading light, a brilliant white shaft illuminating the path that took him onward.

The air was rich with the fragrance of leaves and loam, damp too. The soil was pleasantly wet, slowly releasing its heady fog. Harry knew that outside the forest was noon daylight, but in here everything was cool and the colours had the softness of that time just before twilight. The only movement as Harry made his way through the trees was the occasional bird, startling in a tree or a squirrel dashing up a nearby trunk. The huckleberries were mostly red, tart but with just the right amount of sweetness. The sound of running water in the brook had a hypnotic quality as music, Harry wanted to stop just to drink in the sound but his feet kept leading him on.

The farther Harry travelled into the forest, the darker it grew and the more uncertain he felt. He should stop, he should turn around and go back but his feet kept him moving. The unnatural, choking mist that swirled and sprawled on the forest floor now was the first thing that spoke of a strange sort of wrongness. A sickly red substance oozed from the barks of dark withered trees. He was surrounded by suffocating silence now. The smoke only parted to swallow up his feet as he marched upon the giant dead, festering eyeball of the forest floor. Everything was dead. Dark, twisted branches reached towards him like the gnarled hands of some beast, trying to take possession of him.

Harry could feel the darkness drawing closer to him and pressing down, suffocating him slowly as he stepped carefully through the thick maze of woodland. The densely packed dark trees loomed high above, but remained still despite the icy breeze that continued to flow around him. Harry had to squint, only to see a path of gloom and uncertainty ahead.

He didn't know where he was headed. He just knew that he had to get there and his feet were determined to lead him. As he walked fearlessly under the dark tresses of the trees, his feet caressed the velvet flesh of the forest ground he wondered if he should find the dark coils of the woods so foreboding. He didn't. He didn't feel anything except for that need to keep moving.

Ahead the forest trees grew thinner, a clearing perhaps or a glade? As he drew closer he saw that it was neither. The river was a slice of mellow harmony amidst the dark, dead forest. It flowed like time onward toward its destiny. In the shade of the boughs Harry wade in, feeling the welcome kiss of coolness, watching the eddies that swirled and disappeared. The water surface was livened by brief crescents of white that were fish arcing as they swam. His eyes travelled downstream, caressing the dapples that brought the shine of the water to a hue so homely. He stifled a giggle. This forest was so far from the home he had left, but right now it didn't matter a bit. This moment was his own and right now, he was at home.

Home…That one word forced Harry to stop and the world to stop around him. Where was his home? Where was it? Harry looked around as if the answer would magically appear but it didn't. Instead the cool, clear water running around his feet turned a deep shade of red and turned warm and viscous. The white fish that had been swimming so merrily a little while ago began popping up dead all around him. Harry's heart hammered in his chest. He needed to move but his feet wouldn't budge. Something….or someone grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the river. He looked up from the blood and saw that it was a man who was dragging him out of the river.

When Harry was deposited on the bank, he took a good long look at the man. The man had sleek curly locks and a neat beard. He was dressed in well fitted suit and exuded an air of confidence and careless arrogance. The grey eyes were familiar. They seemed familiar. The lines around the man's eyes crinkled as he smiled. Harry wanted to thank him. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. The man turned his back to him and began walking away. Harry wanted to follow him but his feet held him rooted to the spot.

When the man had vanished into the darkness, Harry turned around to face the river of blood again but the river was gone. The forest began to evaporate into a mist all around him and soon enough there was nothing. He saw nothing… no light, no shadows, just empty white. Every surface was dustless and the ceramic tiled floor reflected every detail of the passage as he walked through it. The atmosphere was placid, almost silent, only white noise was hypnotizing him. There were no doors, no windows, only more walls stretching away like at the Asylum. He was back at the Asylum. No…No…No…This couldn't be happening.

He started to sweat, tremble, his heart beating faster. Walking became running in an attempt to find a way out, his eyes following to where the white became darkness. All he wanted to do was to give up, cry for someone to save him…cry for that man to save him again…Sirius…That had been Sirius who had saved him earlier. But he was nowhere in sight and Harry understood with a sense of despair that no one would, no one could, no one was there. He had to get out no matter what. He couldn't go through it all again. His only choice of escape was to follow the infinite passage leading into the unknown...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it took me ages to update this but hopefully I'll update more regularly from now on. Let me know what you think about this work as a whole. Looking forward to your feedback.

He came back to his senses and for a moment he fought with tooth and nail against the hands holding him down. He was convinced that he was back in the asylum, restrained to the bed,

"Wake up, Kiddo…It was just a nightmare…You were having a nightmare…"

That voice… Who did that voice belong to? He stopped fighting and cautiously opened his eyes. A familiar face greeted him that was covered mostly with a mangy beard. He looked away from the face and took in his surroundings…

He wasn't in the asylum… This didn't seem like the asylum. Had he managed to escape then? The man released him and knelt by his side on the mattress. Harry closed his eyes and struggled to piece together the fragments of his memories that were simply floating around in his head. Pain…Sharp and sudden lanced through his head and a cry escaped his lips.

He opened his eyes when he felt the man touch his forehead,

"Are you alright, Kiddo?"

Harry held his gaze for a minute. There was something warm and kind about his eyes. He just wished he could remember his name or how he'd met him or where he was. He went over everything he remembered in his head and that was his name. Harry…That was his name…He couldn't remember anything else.

The man reached forward and touched his cheek,

"Say something, Kiddo."

He squeezed his eyes shut as he fought to remember. The pain grew tenfold and prevented him from recalling. The frustration drove him to tears and he wept desolately. Suddenly, he was being held tight and the man was whispering comforts to him,

"Ssshhh…Kiddo…It's going to be alright…Everything will be alright…"

He couldn't help but wrap his arms around the man as he burrowed his face in his chest…desperate for comfort…desperate for safety…

The man held him for a few minutes and then pulled away. He reached forward and wiped away his tears before speaking softly,

"Tell me what's wrong…Talk to me."

Harry held his gaze and spoke,

"I can't remember you…your name…where I am…how I got here…"

The man frowned before smiling kindly and helped him into a sitting position before pulling him into his arms,

"I can help you with that. There was no need for you to cry."

Harry allowed himself to relax into his hold and the man started speaking,

"My name is Sirius Black. This is where I live. You met me in an alleyway last night and told me you'd escaped from the asylum. This morning, I asked you if you wanted to come home with me and you agreed."

Harry closed his eyes as the images flashed on the forefront of his mind but along with those images came memories of the nightmare he'd had, and he couldn't help but whimper. Sirius tightened his hold on him and inquired softly,

"What's wrong?"

Harry opened his eyes and regarded Sirius for a moment before speaking,

"It was just a nightmare."

His stomach growled noisily, and Harry couldn't help but blush as Sirius chuckled and touched his cheek,

"There's no need for you to be embarrassed. In fact, it should be the other way around. I'm a terrible host."

Sirius rose to his feet, retrieved his coat and shoes from the cupboard and spoke,

"Just stay here. I'll be right back."

Harry nodded silently as he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. He felt guilty for inconveniencing Sirius. It was almost as if Sirius had read his mind because he spoke from the door,

"Don't feel guilty. I would have gone out to get myself something to eat even if you hadn't been here."

He nodded without looking up and heard the door opening and closing that signalled Sirius's departure. Instantly, the silence began to unnerve him, and he pulled the blanket over himself and hid under it.

* * *

He stormed into the Asylum, unceremoniously shoving his umbrella and bag into one of the orderly's hand before bursting through the door that led to the old bastard's office,

"Where is he?"

Dumbledore made no move to look up from the book he was reading and merely spoke,

"Hello to you too, Tom. How are you doing?"

He snatched the book from Dumbledore's hand and tossed it away before gritting out,

"What did you do with him, Albus?"

Dumbledore stared up at him, his blue gaze completely unconcerned as he spoke,

"What is the matter, Tom? You seem bothered…"

He resisted the urge to grab the old man and strangle the life out of him. His informant had broken the news to him this morning that Harry had gone missing from the Asylum and he'd found himself unable to breathe as he'd remembered the threat Dumbledore had dealt him. Had Dumbledore really killed him off? He could have. That old bastard was perfectly capable of it. If Dumbledore had really killed him then? Then the guilt would surely be the death of him. His desire to possess Harry would be the reason he was dead. He hadn't been able to get him out of his mind all night and he'd spent every minute planning how exactly he was going to make Harry his but when he'd been delivered the news this morning…It had felt like the earth had been snatched away from right underneath his feet. No, he simply couldn't be dead,

"Tell me you have not killed him…Tell me…"

Dumbledore had the nerve to chuckle and inquire,

"Who exactly are you talking about, Tom?"

He slammed his hands down on the desk and shouted,

"HARRY…HARRY POTTER…I AM TALKING ABOUT HARRY POTTER, YOU BLOODY BASTARD!"

Dumbledore rose to his feet steadily and walked towards him before speaking calmly,

"You must be mistaken, My Boy. Harry Potter died along with his parents two months ago."

He couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief and then Dumbledore spoke,

"You do not seem well, Tom. Have you been sleeping well? I could prescribe you something to help with that if…"

He didn't have the fortitude to listen to anymore of this. He turned his back to Dumbledore and silently made his way out of his office as his heart sank in his chest.


	8. Chapter 8

The boy was a shaking, trembling mess when he returned, and he cursed internally. He put the basket down by the mattress and pulled the blanket away from him,

"Kiddo…I'm here…I'm back…"

But the boy seemed to be lost somewhere. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he just kept quivering uncontrollably as he whimpered and sobbed. It broke his heart to see the kid so broken and damaged. He looked so vulnerable and fragile. The boy needed some serious looking after and he just wasn't the right candidate for the job. But he knew someone who could look after him and hopefully make him better.

He would have to do for now so he pulled the boy into his arms and spoke in a low soothing whisper,

"Ssshhh…Harry… I'm here….No one will hurt you…"

The boy bought against his hold initially but he held onto him tight and continued to speak to him,

"You're safe, Harry…You're safe… This isn't the asylum. You're away from Dumbledore…He can't find you…He can't hurt you…"

Harry eventually began to calm down until he was completely limp in his arms. He ran his fingers through his messy raven black locks and couldn't help but wonder where he'd seen him. He looked too familiar but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall. He gave up and laid Harry back down.

Heavens knew what dastardly concoctions Dumbledore had been feeding him and the effects they'd had on him and his mind. Albus Dumbledore held a respectable station in the eyes of the public but only a select few people knew about his true nature. He was a beast…a demon…One might go as far as to call him the very Devil himself. The unspeakable horrors that took place behind the closed door of his so called Asylum were enough to make grown men cower in fear.

He'd learned all about Dumbledore and his evil ways when he'd started working as an orderly in his Asylum. The way Dumbledore manipulated his patients…brainwashed them with his wicked concoctions and turned them into utterly submissive slaves before selling them off like dolls. He'd feigned illness and left the town. But, unemployment forced him back to London. He worked as a handyman and performed whatever odd jobs he could get his hands on to keep himself fed. His addiction to alcohol was something that couldn't be helped so he had to feed that as well.

Harry moaned softly in his sleep and his features scrunched up as if he was in pain. He must be having another nightmare. If he'd been at the asylum, then Dumbledore must have been in the process of conditioning him. He watched the way Harry fisted the blanket and the way his body jerked violently before he pulled him back into his arms and began soothing him once more.

He had no idea how Harry had managed it, but he was extremely glad that he'd escaped Dumbledore's evil clutches. The boy seemed too innocent…too naïve…There was something pure about him. Dumbledore would have stripped him bare of all that and thrown him to the wolves. Harry held on tight to him and he continued to rub his back as he relaxed again.

It was hours later that Harry woke up again. His emerald eyes were completely blank for a moment and he wondered if his memories had vanished again but then he blinked, and recognition settled into them along with a certain hint of uncertainty. He spoke his name in a low broken whisper that sounded more like a question,

"Sirius?"

Sirius smiled and patted him on the cheek,

"Yes…Kiddo…Sirius…"

Relief flashed through Harry's eyes and he helped him sit up straight,

"How are you feeling now?"

Harry looked around the room before focusing on him and spoke,

"Better."

He smiled and pulled the basket over the mattress,

"You need to eat."

Harry's stomach growled noisily, and he nodded shakily,

"Okay."

He tore off a piece from the loaf of bread before buttering it up and held it out to Harry. Harry took it in his hands like it was something sacred before he took a bite and then another and another until was gone like it had never existed. He was all skin and bones. He knew the diet they served at the asylum…tasteless, bland glob that was designed to provide no nourishment to the patients…only sustenance. The sole purpose of the glob was to keep the patients alive. That was it. That was another technique Dumbledore used to break the patients. The patients believed they were fed three times a day but since they got no nourishment from the meals, their bodies grew weak and their minds followed which made it easier for Dumbledore to manipulate them.

He buttered up another piece for Harry and Harry ate that up faster than the first one. Harry would need a lot of care if he ever hoped to get better and once again, he couldn't help but think that he was the most terrible candidate for that. He really would need to take him to someone who was much more capable. It would take a lot of grovelling, but he was sure that it would get the job done. Harry would be safe there. He would be well fed and well looked after.

Harry was eating his third piece when he inquired softly,

"Do you trust me?"

Harry had his mouth full of bread, so he simply nodded. He smiled and spoke,

"I know this isn't the best place to live so I'm going to take you to a friend of mine."

Harry looked utterly terrified. He swallowed the bit of bread he'd been chewing on and then spoke,

"I don't…don't want to go…"

He reached forward and took his hand that was absolutely freezing cold,

"It's going to be fine, Harry. You'll be fine…"

Harry looked nowhere near placated, but he still nodded and spoke in a small voice,

"I trust you."


	9. Chapter 9

Harry couldn't help but cling to Sirius's arm as he came to a halt outside a street that was bustling with activity. Women dressed in tight corsets that could barely contain their breasts were leaning against the shop fronts and lamp posts accosting every man that passed. There were boys too…prettily dressed in clothes that clung to their lean frames and showed off their figures…Harry couldn't help but be afraid.

Had he made an error in trusting Sirius? Was Sirius going to sell him off here? Sirius squeezed his hand and spoke,

"Relax…Kiddo…You're safe…No one will hurt you here…"

He began leading him towards a building but a red-haired woman dressed in a pink and black Victorian styled dress came to stand in their way,

"Well...well…well… If it ain't the notorious Mr. Black."

Sirius chuckled softly and leered at the woman,

"What do you want, Denise?"

She scowled at Sirius for a moment before turning her gaze to him,

"I see you've decided to switch sides. Women aren't enough to satisfy you anymore?"

Sirius barked out a laugh,

"Heavens no… You know me… I would lay down anything for a pretty woman…"

She blushed before thumping Sirius hard on the chest,

"You humiliated me in front of everyone. I will never forgive you for that."

Sirius raised his hand and cupped her cheek,

"That was not my intention, Denise…I am truly sorry if I hurt you."

Harry saw the way, the woman practically melted at that. Sirius held her gaze until a smile curved her painted lips and she looked back at him,

"What are you doing with the kid then?"

Sirius shook his head,

"Can't tell you now…I'll see you later."

Sirius pressed a quick kiss to her lips and the woman flushed scarlet before moving out of their way. Sirius led him through the door inside a building that was alive with all manners of sights and sounds…some of which made Harry's cheeks flush. He was led through several corridors until he was standing outside a particularly ornate looking door. A tall burly man stood guard at it and Sirius addressed him like they were old friends,

"Avery…How are you doing this fine evening?"

The man grunted noncommittally. Sirius was about to walk past him when he stopped him,

"Madame doesn't wish to see you."

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and feigned offense,

"That isn't even possible? Why wouldn't she want to see me? I'm her cousin…"

He ducked under Avery's large frame, pushed open the door and vanished inside it. Harry could only watch as Avery rushed inside after him. For a moment, he wondered whether he should go in. His doubts were cleared a moment later when a sullen looking Avery stepped back outside and spoke,

"Go right in, Lad."

Harry stepped into the room and found Sirius standing with a breathtakingly attractive woman. She was tall and beautiful, with long, thick, shiny dark hair, thin lips, heavily-lidded eyes with long eyelashes, and a strong jaw. She was dressed in an elegant black dress that screamed of her power and status. She scrutinized him, and Harry wanted nothing more than to vanish into the thick Persian carpet that covered the floor and finally spoke in a soft yet powerful voice,

"I owe you nothing, Black."

There was a pause and then she spoke,

"But after this, you will certainly owe me."

She beckoned him closer with a large painted nail and Harry obeyed silently,

"Look at you…You're so pretty…"

She took his wrist and pulled him closer. Harry stiffened and was about to take a step back, but she prevented it. Sirius opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off sharply,

"Don't you dare interfere."

She held him in place and cupped his cheek,

"You're so pretty yet your eyes…they speak of so much pain and anguish…"

Harry was about to turn his head, but she stopped him,

"No…Let me read your eyes."

Harry couldn't help but hold her gaze. After a minute of silence, she finally released him and led him to one of the couches,

"Sit down, Boy."

Harry sat down reluctantly…not knowing what to expect…not knowing what he was doing here in the first place…Why had Sirius brought him here? Why had he brought him to this woman?

The woman settled down beside him on the couch and grasped his hand,

"Tell me your name."

Harry stared down into his lap and spoke,

"Harry…"

The woman squeezed his hand and spoke,

"Where do you come from, Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes as he tried to remember. Sirius finally spoke up,

"He doesn't remember. He escaped from Dumbledore's asylum."

The woman's grip grew impossibly tight on his hand at that and the venom was so obvious in her voice when she spoke,

"That old bastard…"

She seemed to realize that she was hurting him and released his hand,

"Open your eyes, Harry…Look at me…"

Harry opened his eyes reluctantly and met her gaze once again. The fact that her eyes resembled Sirius's calmed him down some,

"My name is Madame Bellatrix Lestrange. I am the owner of this brothel."

Harry couldn't do anything but nod at her introduction and finally voiced the question that was eating at him,

"Why am I here?"

Harry hadn't meant to sound afraid, but his voice was filled with it. Madame Bellatrix cupped his cheek gently and spoke,

"My cousin wants me to take care of you."

Harry looked at Sirius for confirmation and Sirius nodded before speaking,

"Bella will keep you safe here. She will look after you. You can trust her. She will not hurt you."

Harry turned to look at Madame Bellatrix and she smiled,

"Yes, you can trust me, Harry."

Harry didn't know what to do. This was a brothel. Would Bellatrix expect him to….

Bella cut across his thoughts,

"You will not be expected to do anything you don't want to, Harry."

Sirius approached him and sat down next to him,

"You'll be fine here, Kiddo. You'll be happy. I'll come visit you everyday if you need me to."

Harry nodded quickly and spoke,

"I need you to."

Sirius pulled him in his arms and rubbed his back,

"It has only been twenty-four hours, Kiddo. But it feels like I've known you forever."


	10. Chapter 10

Harry looked around the small room, Bellatrix had shown him into and sat down on the edge of the bed as he listened to Sirius and Bellatrix talk outside the room in hushed whispers. He heard enough to know that Sirius was telling him all about how he was inclined to forget everything whenever he fell asleep.

It bothered him though…His own inability to hold memories bothered him. Whatever medicine Dumbledore had given him should have worn off by now. His mind should be working properly. But it wasn't. It wasn't fine. He wasn't fine. His head throbbed again as if to remind him of the consequences of thinking too much and he laid back on the bed and closed his eyes.

There had to be a way he could remember who he'd been and where he'd lived. He must have a family somewhere…people who would probably be looking for him…missing him…Or maybe not. If he'd been dear to someone, they would have probably found him by now. How long had he been at Dumbledore's Asylum? How long had Dumbledore been messing with his head? Would he ever be normal again?

The door opened and the clicking of the heels told him that It was Bellatrix. He opened his eyes and straightened up just as Bellatrix sat down on the bed beside him,

"How are you feeling?"

Harry ran his fingers over the smooth linen sheets and spoke,

"I'm fine."

She cupped his cheek and smiled,

"Be honest, Harry."

Harry ran his gaze around the room again and spoke,

"Will you make me sleep with people?"

Bellatrix's smile fell instantly and she took his hand,

"I told you…You will not be expected to do anything you don't want to…That includes sleeping with people…"

Harry held her gaze and sighed,

"I can't live here for free and I don't have any money that I can pay you with."

Bellatrix stroked a spot underneath his ear with her thumb as her smile returned,

"Just get better first. Then there are a few day to day chores you can do to help around here."

Harry stared down at Bellatrix's hand that was holding his and spoke,

"I'm as fine as I'll probably ever be."

She raised his face up and made him meet his gaze again,

"You'll be fine. I'll take so much care of you that you'll remember everything in no time."

Harry couldn't help but smile at that and Bellatrix rose to her feet,

"I'll have Amelia bring you something to eat. After that you should get some sleep."

Harry tensed up at the idea of sleep and Bellatrix must have picked up on it because she spoke,

"It's going to be fine. My room is three doors down. I'll be here when you'll wake up."

She was about to walk away when she turned back around and spoke,

"No one sleeps around here during the night, so the noise might bother you, but you'll get used to it. There's cotton wool in the nightstand if you feel like plugging up your ears."

Harry nodded and spoke,

"Thank you, Madame Bellatrix. You're very kind for letting me stay here."

Bellatrix's smile widened and she spoke,

"Everyone here refers to me as Mistress Bella…But you can call me Bella."

Harry entwined his fingers and stared at them as he spoke,

"Respecting you is my duty, Mistress Bella. After all, you've done so much for me."

Bellatrix cackled loudly,

"I haven't done anything for you yet, Harry."

And with that she walked out of the room. Harry went over the conversation a hundred times in his head, looking for a sign to not trust Bellatrix but there wasn't. Once, he couldn't help but survey his surroundings and wondered how much time he would have to spend here.

He was just thinking about that when a woman stepped into the room with a tray balanced on her hip. She was square jawed with close cropped hair and a very severe look in her eyes. She placed the tray on the nightstand and spoke in a loud, booming voice,

"So…You're the new lad that everyone's gossiping about."

Harry couldn't help but shrink into himself under her scrutiny. She gripped his chin tight and turned his head, this way and that before letting out a satisfied hum,

"You're a pretty boy. They'll be frothing at the mouth when they get a look at you."

Harry didn't want to know who they were, but he had a vague idea. Surely, Bellatrix wouldn't let that happen to him. She'd said that he didn't have to do anything he didn't want…

Amelia laughed softly and released his chin,

"Eat your dinner, Lad. Heaven knows, you definitely need some meat on your bones or you won't be able to keep up. I'll collect the dishes later."

And with that, she walked away. Harry stared at the tray of food and tried to quell the waves of nausea roiling in his stomach. Once again, the uncertainties returned…ten times more powerful than the last time and Harry was once again forced to think about his decision of trusting Bellatrix.

The smell of food however revived his appetite and he ended up finishing everything that was on the plates. Having food in his belly somehow made him feel a hundred times better than he'd felt in days and he couldn't help but curl up on the bed and close his eyes.

The noises from downstairs and the adjacent rooms forced him to heed Bellatrix's advice and he ended up plugging his ears after all. After that, it was just a matter of closing his eyes and sleep enveloped him readily…as if it had been waiting for it…almost like a predator sprang at its prey at the first hint of vulnerability.


End file.
